


Now and Forever

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Beaches, Boys In Love, Collecting Seashells, Digital Art, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Keith carries Shiro, M/M, Married Life, Non-Penetrative Sex, Not Season/Series 08 Compliant, Older Sheith, Pet Names, Post-Canon, Water Sex, blade of marmora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25823083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: As diplomatic envoys for the Blade of Marmora, Shiro and Keith are deeply fulfilled and also always busy. When the opportunity for some time alone arises, Keith jumps at the chance to surprise Shiro with a getaway to a space beach—giving them some much needed time to relax.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 215





	Now and Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SheithinSummer. This was a collab with eventoysneedluv (whose beautiful art can be seen in the fic below or [here](https://twitter.com/eventoysneedluv/status/1292822095110508546) on twitter). This was so much fun and we hope you love it as much as we do!
> 
> Thank you starlitruns for supporting me along the way and letting me spam you and whiskyandwildflowers for being an amazing support and beta!

“Thank you so much for your consideration. The Trukkex will be a valued ally in the continued quest for intergalactic peace and equality. Your generous donations will go very far,” Shiro says, his smile blinding.

It sometimes amazes Keith that all these years later he can still find himself blindsided by the beauty of Shiro's smile. It’s clear the Trukkex elder feels the same, because her reptile-like green skin goes red in the cheek area. Keith can’t blame her, Shiro’s smile still makes him blush sometimes and they’ve been married nearly ten years. 

“You honor me, Senior Blade Shirogane. The Trukkex are privileged to be part of the Blade’s Peace Initiative.”

“It is you who honor us,” Shiro says, his smile widening.

It’s all Keith can do not to laugh as the Trukkex’s antennae twitch. He’s pretty sure she’s got a crush on Shiro if her staunch refusal to talk peace with anyone but him is any indication. Keith’s not fussed, he’s used to putting aside his personal feelings during these kinds of diplomatic missions. Besides, if Keith were in their position he’d request Shiro too.

This isn’t their first rodeo, and Keith’s used to realizing some of their new allies have very specific ideas in their head interacting with him and Shiro. Sometimes it’s Keith they prefer, sometimes it’s Shiro, and sometimes both. They’ve learned to roll with it. 

Privately Keith sometimes prefers it this way, always pleased to see Shiro take the lead. Sure he gets a little bored taking a background position during discussions, but there’s nothing more gratifying to him than watching Shiro passionately advocate for peace and humanitarian causes across the galaxy. His dedication and commitment is unmatched—except when it’s Keith’s turn at the helm. 

The amount of pride and admiration he feels for Shiro’s diplomatic abilities and passion for bringing resources and freedom to the disadvantaged makes Keith’s heart swell. It’s Keith’s dream but better because it’s happened with Shiro by his side. 

He’s never been so happy. 

Shiro is amazing and Keith loves seeing other people recognize that greatness in him.

Back when Keith had first suggested the idea of helping turn the Blade of Marmora’s extensive connections and skill set into a humanitarian and peacekeeping group, he’d been met with no small amount of resistance and disbelief, both from within the Blade and the Garrison. Shiro’d been the first one to express faith in Keith’s vision, the first one to give up Atlas and his position at the Garrison to pledge himself to Keith and his cause, and the one person who stood beside Keith through every success and failure.

It was a rocky start, building bridges of faith and hope in places where nothing but distrust and fear had been planted. Keith knows Shiro’s presence. both as the original Black Paladin and the Captain of Atlas. helped smooth things over in places where the Galra were still feared. Over time the people learned to trust Keith and the other Blades as well.

And now, Keith gets to spend his days living out his dream of traveling space with his best friend while simultaneously ensuring that no one else has to live through the kind of pain and fear he and Shiro have seen. It’s a more gratifying and peace-filled future than Keith could have ever dreamed.

“Senior Blade Shirogane, thank you for your time as well.”

“Keith. _Keith_ ,” Shiro coughs.

It’s only when Shiro jags his poky elbow into Keith’s hip that it occurs to Keith that the elder Trukkex is talking to _him_. Keith shakes his head, not all that surprised he’d completely spaced out. It happens sometimes when he thinks about Shiro.

“You flatter me. The Blades are the ones honored.”

The Trukkex’s pointed teeth go on full display as she smiles, followed by a small bow of her head before she’s backing away, leaving Shiro and Keith standing beside their ship. The second she’s out of sight Shiro slumps back against the wing, undoing the top three buttons of his uniform to reveal an expanse of pale skin Keith has very much missed seeing these last few days. The Trukkex it turns out find visible flesh less than pleasing, and despite the overwhelming heat on their small planet, he and Shiro had been forced to wear their Blade best all day, every day. 

Shiro had borne the brunt of it though, dragged away for long tours of the Aeflispolia orchards. Keith’s pretty sure she was hoping for some more one-on-one with Shiro, but the hot-headed jealousy of Keith’s youth has given way to bemusement any time someone acts interested. There’s not a soul alive more loyal than Shiro, and there had been a time where Keith spent sleepless nights and long days terrified of losing Shiro—whether to the universe or someone better he wasn’t sure. Now he wakes up every day content in the knowledge that Shiro is his and his alone.

“That went well,” Shiro says, undoing another three buttons and letting out a sigh. “Shit, that’s better. Next time we do this we’re going to need to make sure we don’t wear the Qhet'ad hide.”

“Ah, yeah that’s my fault. I was trying to sync up the Datapad with the ship's navigation by using the universal interface, but I think it must’ve swapped our planet intel with Pidge’s.”

“Does this mean Pidge ended up on a snow-covered planet in sandals and shorts?” Shiro asks, one eyebrow raised as he gives in and removes the last few buttons, shrugging the jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground with a thud. It kicks up a cloud of red dust that coats the thick leather in the strange porous rock dust that covers the planet. It’s a testament to how hot Shiro clearly is, and though Keith is not looking forward to laundering their uniforms now, he is more than appreciative of his new view.

Beneath the jacket, Shiro’s wearing his usual thin white tank top which clings to every inch of his body. It’s a damn good look and Keith is glad there’s no one around to witness what he does next—closing the distance between them and pressing Shiro back against the hull of the ship. 

“Senior Blade Shirogane, the details of this mission were quite clear. Physical displays of affection are prohibited,” Shiro says, tone low enough that if Keith hadn’t known him for so long, he’d swear Shiro was serious.

“Funny, I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” Keith smirks, the memory of Shiro pulling him down into the strange nest-like bed they’d been provided before fingering Keith open and urging Keith to ride him for hours bringing a fresh wave of warmth to Keith’s face.

Shiro barks out a laugh, metal fingers curling around Keith’s hip as he pulls him closer. “Are you implying I broke an intergalactic peace agreement to fuck?”

“Yes,” Keith deadpans, earning him another laugh. 

Shiro is radiant like this, the harsh sun for this planet casting rays of golden light on Shiro’s hair that makes him look nothing short of ethereal. Keith would find it unfair that any one man can be so damn gorgeous, but since Shiro is his, instead he feels smug. 

“Between you and me, my husband is the sexiest man alive. I can’t be held responsible for what I do in his presence,” Shiro says. “He’s a bad influence.”

Keith snorts. “You were the one who feigned a headache. I really believed you too. There I was frantically searching the med kit in our room for some of those blue pills and the next thing I know, boom.”

“Boom,” Shiro echoes, thumbing over Keith’s hip. Even through the thick leather the touch sends a shot of serotonin right to Keith’s brain, leaving him helpless to do anything but crash his lips against Shiro’s.

Shiro lets out a soft exhale of surprise which Keith swallows greedily as one hand curls around the back of Shiro’s neck and the other tangles in his bangs. Shiro’s lips are warm, his body even warmer, and Keith kisses Shiro until they’re both breathless, then kisses him more until every little bit of tension has seeped from Shiro’s body, leaving him a boneless mess.

When Keith pulls out of the kiss his sense of smugness intensifies at the sight of a disheveled and half-dressed Shiro splayed out against their ship. A decade together has done nothing to quell the fire in Keith’s heart that burns for Shiro. He might not be the jealous type any longer, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a little possessive when the mood strikes.

The urge to shove down Shiro’s pants and jerk him off until he’s even more relaxed is strong, but Keith resists. There are only a few varga left before they lose sunlight on this planet, and Keith needs all of it.

“Alright, big boy, into the copilot seat,” Keith says, rapping his knuckles on the side of the ship. “I’m flying us back to the outpost, and you’re going to sit there and look pretty.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Shiro preens, his amusement evident. “I don’t know if I can manage.”

Despite Shiro’s playful protests he has no problem letting Keith take the lead, settling back into his chair and closing his eyes as he stretches out his long legs. By the time they’re lifting off, Shiro’s seat is in the recline position, and he’s fast asleep just like Keith knew he would be. Shiro’s not as young as he once was, and while Keith was able to sleep the morning away in the sex-scented love nest, Shiro’s presence had been requested for a a sunrise meditation in the Ekaewaire gardens. Unfortunately, sunrise on Ganzade equated to about two a.m. their normal time, and though Shiro was a professional and barely let even a yawn slip through, Keith knew his husband well enough to read the lines of exhaustion in his face. 

With practiced ease, Keith lifts off into the shimmering sky and off planet. Beside him Shiro slumbers, blissfully unaware of Keith’s surprise. There’d been a time where if Keith so much as breathed wrong, Shiro jolted from sleep, always on high alert even when asleep. Now Shiro sleeps like a goddamn rock, snoring away as Keith makes a sharp turn, cutting directly through an asteroid belt to shave off at least twenty dobosh from their estimated arrival time. 

Thankfully Shiro is apparently exhausted enough to sleep through the turbulence as Keith cruises through the rocky skies and straight on to the cluster of stars ahead. As soon as Keith sees the swirling nebulae hidden between three stars he knows he’s in the right place. He flips off the navigation system, knowing it won’t work anyway with all the interference, and switches off the autopilot to personally guide them directly into the center of the swirling cloud of gas. 

It was only luck that led Keith to the information about their secret destination. Having not been invited to the garden meditation had left Keith with an entire morning to fill. After wandering the grounds of the Trukkex’s monastery, he’d eventually stumbled on a chatty Trukkex looking to impress the visiting Blade envoys. One cup of too-strong Xezak tea and a plate of unpalatable biscuit-like cakes later, and Keith had learned a great deal about the local flora and fauna and even more about a revered and hidden oasis just a short ship ride away. 

Not just any oasis, either—a beach. 

Or, as close to a beach as one might find in outer space if the Trukkex’s description of the sand-like shore and lapping waters were to be believed. He and Shiro haven’t been to a beach since their honeymoon on Earth years ago, and Keith was not about to let an opportunity to take Shiro to one pass him by. Even more gratifying was that Shiro had been so busy the entire day that Keith was able to secretly acquire some last minute supplies, refuel, and send notice to the outpost that their ship would be docking late, all without Shiro noticing.

It’s not often Keith gets to surprise Shiro, not even on his birthday. It’s a rare opportunity Keith is ready to make the most of.

Relief and excitement flood Keith in equal parts as they pass through the nebulae and come out on the other side, not in the middle of space but in the middle of a space beach. Keith had been more than a little skeptical when the Trukkex had explained the secret wormhole, but he’d also seen enough in his lifetime to know that just because something sounded unbelievable, didn’t mean it actually was. There was a time where flying space robots and an alien space war were the craziest things Keith had ever heard of.

He spares a quick sidelong glance at Shiro who is still fast asleep and completely unaware of their new location, before returning his attention to landing the ship. They’re the only ones here, so Keith doesn’t need to worry about wasting time looking for privacy, and guides the ship down directly onto the sand beneath them.

It’s a perfect landing, so smooth and soft not even a single beautiful strand of hair on Shiro’s head is disturbed. Keith relishes in the smugness, almost wishing Shiro had been awake to see his flawless descent and landing on new terrain, but is also pleased he wasn’t, looking forward to the surprise.

Keith leaves Shiro to sleep as he slips back into the cargo hold, wasting no time in stripping off his Blade uniform and changing into a pair of shorts and his favorite red tank top. He and Shiro learned a long time ago it was best to always have extra clothing on hand just in case. Unfortunately for their trip to the Trukkex, they’d forgotten to pack their lighter cotton Blade uniforms, and the only warm weather clothing in storage had been far too casual to secure a new ally. What had been inappropriate to greet a new ally, though, is perfect to spend a few hours on a secret beach. 

Once dressed, he retrieves his other supplies, including a Trukkex style handwoven blanket, and an assortment of nonperishable foods Keith was able to find at a small stall in the center of town. He shoves it all into one of the spare bags, grabs Shiro’s shorts, and heads back into the cockpit.

Shiro’s started to drool a little bit, his mouth open and his eyes fluttering behind closed lids. Keith almost feels guilty waking him up when he’s clearly sleeping so peacefully, but they’ve only got a few hours before they’re due back at the Blade outpost, and it's now or never.

Dropping to his knees, Keith shuffles forward and reaches out to brush soft locks of white hair from Shiro’s forehead. Shiro sucks in a little breath, turning towards Keith even in his sleep, but doesn’t wake. Keith repeats the action, fingers stroking over the bridge of Shiro’s nose and over his forehead. Though many things have changed for them, one thing hasn’t—Shiro needs to be woken gently. Anything else results in Shiro being triggered back into a bad place, or turning into the world’s crankiest human alive. Keith wants neither.

What Keith wants is a happy and relaxed Shiro.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” Keith whispers, fingers slipping into Shiro’s hair and lightly dragging across his scalp.

Shiro hums in pleasure. Despite his eyes remaining, shut he is definitely closer to wakefulness. 

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty, show me those pretty eyes of yours,” Keith urges, voice pitched low as his fingers slip down to trace along the shell of Shiro’s ears. It’s a bit of a dirty trick since Shiro’s weak for any attention to his ears, but Keith doesn’t waste any of their precious time letting Shiro wake up on his own. Shiro’s less like a princess when he sleeps and more like a bear in hibernation. 

Closer to his goal, Keith takes full advantage of the arsenal of knowledge he has about what Shiro enjoys and drags his fingers down Shiro’s neck and across the hollow of his collarbone before settling on one of his pecs and giving it a firm squeeze. It does the trick, Shiro’s eyes fluttering open slowly as a pleased smile blossoms on his face.

“Keith,” he whispers, eyes full of affection. 

It’s ridiculous that after all these years the sound of his name on Shiro’s lips can still make him feel like a teenager, but it does. Before answering Keith leans down to steal a kiss, relishing in the way Shiro responds, languid and sweet. 

“Hi, baby,” Shiro murmurs, immediately reaching out for Keith with his left hand. His fingers curl around Keith’s hip and Keith doesn’t need to be a mind reader to realize exactly where Shiro is trying to guide him—his lap. 

“We’ve got a good ten dobosh before any of the Blades try to board and see why weren’t not coming out. Bet I could make you feel really good before that happens,” he says, still lazing back in his chair as if his body is molded to it. His hair is messier than he usually keeps it, eyes heavy with sleep, and his smile languid. Keith loves him like this—half-awake and relaxed. Then again, there’s not a version of Shiro he doesn’t love. 

The urge to climb into Shiro’s lap and let Shiro do anything he wants is alluring. As good as the offer sounds right now though, Keith is after something else. He’s gonna make Shiro rest and relax if it kills him—or gives him a serious case of blue balls. 

“We’re not at the Blade outpost.”

Shiro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his chair, eyes widening as he looks out the panoramic pilot’s window. 

“Where are we?” 

“Surprise,” Keith grins, trying to tamp down his self-satisfaction. 

Shiro rises from his chair, pressing his left hand to the high tempered quartz glass window, followed by his nose. He looks like a little boy peeking through a store window at Christmas. 

“Keith, is this _a beach_?”

His self-satisfaction boils over. “Yes.”

“This is incredible,” Shiro says, face still pressed to the glass. 

_You’re incredible,_ Keith thinks, moving forward to lay a hand at Shiro’s lower back.

“Do you want to go check it out?” Keith asks.

Shiro whips his head around towards Keith, eyes bright. There’s a youthful excitement in his face that Keith hasn’t seen in awhile and it makes his chest ache with how damn much he still loves Shiro—how much he will always love Shiro.

“Yes,” Shiro grins.

Keith holds the shorts out to Shiro, who wastes no time in kicking off his boots and trying to shimmy out of his pants. It would be easier with two arms, but Shiro’s prosthetic is still powered off and Keith’s got more than enough hands to help. 

“Let me,” Keith says, smoothing his hands down Shiro’s hips and dragging the pants down with him.

Shiro is watchful as Keith guides the pants lower, fingers dragging down the back of Shiro’s strong calves and delicate ankles. Shiro rests his left hand on Keith’s shoulder to steady himself as he lifts each leg and allows Keith to tug the pants off. Left in nothing but his boxers and undershirt, Keith’s hit with a wave of appreciation for how gorgeous his husband is.

He’s not twenty-five and fighting for his life anymore. Now there are lines on his face—not scars but honest-to-god laugh lines—and a softness in him that wasn’t there before. He’s still Shiro, which means he is just crazy enough to think exercise is fun, but despite his level of fitness the muscles in his body have changed from _I need these to survive_ to _I take care of my body to feel good_. He’s still fit, but he’s also nearing forty, which means when he sits there are tiny ab rolls that spill over his pants and there’s a softness in his biceps that Keith loves to dig his fingers into when they fuck.

“You’re staring,” Shiro says, no small amount of amusement in his voice.

“Damn right I am,” Keith agrees, grabbing the shorts from where he left them on the ground and holding open the waistband for Shiro to step into the leg holes. “Now stop distracting me, pretty boy. Get your ass in these shorts so we can go have an adventure.”

“Yes, sir,” Shiro laughs, raising an eyebrow when Keith pauses mid-task to cop a feel of Shiro’s thighs.

“I’m not doing anything,” Keith insists, giving the thick thighs one last firm squeeze. He fucking loves Shiro’s thighs.

“Didn’t say you were,” Shiro says, clearly trying not to laugh.

“You were thinking about it,” Keith says, rising to stand as he tugs the shorts the rest of the way up. Now fully on, he gives Shiro’s ass a playful slap. “Let’s go.”

“Do I need the prosthetic or—”

“Only if you want it,” Keith finishes, aware that no matter how much Shiro refuses to admit it, the heavy weight of it sometimes takes a toll. 

Shiro purses his lips then shakes his head, throwing his left arm around Keith’s shoulder and tipping his face down to plant a kiss on the top of Keith’s head. “Let’s go, baby.”

“Let’s go,” Keith echoes, knocking his hip against Shiro’s as they make their way towards the back and out of the cargo hold.

They forgo shoes in favor of being barefoot, something Keith is especially glad of as they step out onto the unfamiliar sand-like beach. The sand is softer than sand on Earth, almost like marshmallows, and Keith doesn’t realize he’s laughed until Shiro’s cupping the back of his neck and whispering, “I love your laugh.”

“You’re getting sappy in your old age,” Keith snorts.

“I’m not forty for another deca-phoeb so there,” Shiro laughs. “Besides, between the astral plane and the space whale, you’re basically almost as old as me now.”

“Nope, I’m still younger,” Keith grins, unsure why teasing Shiro about his age always fills him with such glee. He knows that Shiro is secretly a little nervous about turning forty, but he also knows that neither of them thought they’d make it this far. Being able to joke about the shit that comes with turning middle-aged like back pain and eye wrinkles is somehow one of the best things in Keith’s life. He and Shiro are getting older and Keith absolutely loves it. He can’t wait to turn wrinkled and grey with Shiro. For now though, he’s content to rib Shiro endlessly about his approaching milestone birthday next year.

They dissolve into quiet after that, winding across the shoreline. It’s not a stilted silence, but one born of a lifetime together where neither of them are afraid of the silence any longer.

Shiro’s arm slips from his shoulder down to entwine their fingers, mischief in his eyes. Keith’s got just enough time to drop his backpack before he’s being dragged directly into the water. Somehow, Keith expected the water to be cold, but instead it’s surprisingly warm as it laps at their ankles while Shiro leads him out to sea. 

“Baby, it’s warm,” Shiro says, clearly as surprised as Keith. He drops Keith’s hand but only so he can bend down and drag his hand over the shimmering surface. Beneath his fingers the water ripples. Shiro scoops some of it up in his hand, watching as it trickles out of his cupped palm slowly like droplets of starlight. 

“This is amazing,” Shiro murmurs, scooping up another handful of the strange water.

“Yeah it is,” Keith agrees, not talking about the water.

Shiro’s too busy scooping up handfuls of water and watching it drip from his hand to notice the way Keith’s staring. Keith likes it that way. As happy as he and Shiro are, and as much as they love their lives and their jobs, they don’t get a lot of time just for _them_ like this. Being able to watch Shiro play with handfuls of space sea is something Keith is definitely not taking for granted.

“You think it’s safe to go all the way in?” Shiro asks, scooping up his fifth handful of the water.

Growing up in the desert, Keith didn’t have much opportunity to be around water. He doesn’t hate it, but he doesn’t love it the way Shiro does. He knows being near the water reminds Shiro of his childhood, of growing up near the shore with his grandparents. For Shiro the water means happiness and safety, and the obvious peace it brings him is enough for Keith to get over his own personal cat-like desire to be as dry and warm as possible at all times.

“The Trukkex said it was,” Keith tells him, somehow unsurprised when Shiro drops down beneath the shimmering surface of the water.

Shiro’s not so much swimming as he is submerging himself in the pearly depths of the sea. The water is clear enough that Keith can see Shiro’s outline clearly as he moves his arm and leg, a few stray air bubbles rising to the surface. A few ticks later, Shiro pops up, water dripping from his hair and down his cheeks as he shakes water from his head.

“Nice?” Keith asks, trying to dodge a splash of water Shiro sends his way.

“Very,” Shiro agrees, doing it again.

He drops down to his knees so that the water comes up to his chest—white tank top saturated and clinging to every muscle and curve of Shiro’s beautiful body. He’s radiant, and a little shit.

“Hey,” Keith yells, two seconds before Shiro’s grabbing the delicate back of his knee and pulling forward to send Keith toppling down into the water with far less grace than Shiro had.

Keith splutters as the water hits him. It’s warm, but it's _wet_ , and the only thing that stops him from frowning is the laughter that bubbles out of Shiro’s chest as rich and thick as honey. It makes pleasure curl low in Keith’s gut.

“You’re a pain in my ass, Shirogane,” Keith laughs, floating forward until his knees hit Shiro’s beneath the water.

“And you love me,” Shiro grins, pulling Keith into his lap. It’s a bit of an awkward position in the water, but if Shiro doesn’t mind then neither does Keith—Shiro’s lap is one of his favorite places to be.

“You know I do and you damn well take advantage of it,” Keith grins. “I can’t believe you pulled me into the water.”

“You like it,” Shiro insists, trying to weasel his free hand beneath Keith’s tank top—an impossible task with it hanging wet and heavy against his skin.

“Maybe,” Keith answers evasively. He’s still not exactly a fan of water, but he loves the way Shiro livens up around it as if every burden he’s ever carried has been washed away in the tide.

“I love you, baby,” Shiro murmurs, fingers dancing their way up Keith’s spine to curl around the back of his neck before guiding him down for a kiss.

It’s slow and sweet, the languid slide of Shiro’s lips against his own turning his limbs to jelly. He’s glad for Shiro’s body beneath him helping to hold him up, because when Shiro slips a tongue inside his mouth, Keith knows there’s no hope left for him.

“Shiro,” Keith groans, his body responding eagerly to each of Shiro’s simple but reverent touches.

“Yeah, baby,” Shiro whispers, thumb stroking over the back of Keith’s neck. He shouldn’t be hard from just a kiss but he is, a fact that is entirely Shiro’s fault.

Keith whimpers, mouth falling open as Shiro drags Keith’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucks. It urges Shiro on and he hums out his own pleasure as his hand skims down Keith’s neck and across his shoulder, then further down his chest and even lower to wiggle beneath the waistband of his shorts. Keith’s lip falls from Shiro’s mouth as Shiro wraps his fingers around Keith’s dick, dragging a guttural groan from Keith.

“Getting a hand job in the sea wasn’t part of the plan,” Keith croaks, dropping his forehead to Shiro’s.

“No plan. Adventure,” Shiro reminds him, nuzzling his nose against Keith’s as he lazily strokes his fingers up and down Keith’s erection.

Settled atop Shiro’s lap with warm water splashing against his side as Shiro’s expectant fingers twist and stroke, Keith finds himself practically melting.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Relax,” Shiro murmurs, peppering kisses across the bridge of Keith’s nose.

“Was supposed to make _you_ relax,” Keith groans.

“Making you feel good relaxes me,” Shiro says. Keith knows he means it too. There’s nothing in the world Shiro likes more than being able to make Keith feel good. It’s something that, even a decade later, Keith sometimes finds hard to believe.

“Shiro,” Keith gasps.

Shiro kisses Keith again, a slow slide of their lips as he strokes Keith’s dick. It feels so good, the warm sea ebbing around them as Shiro tugs and twists exactly the way Keith likes. It’s melodic to hear the waves crash in the distance, his own arousal rising to a crescendo as Shiro murmurs words of praise that have Keith spilling his release in time with the cresting waves before collapsing atop Shiro and burying his face in Shiro’s neck.

“Cheater,” Keith groans, unable to believe just how fast Shiro was able to pull an orgasm from him.

“Not cheating if my knowledge was freely given,” Shiro laughs, pressing a kiss to the side of Keith’s head.

Keith’s too blissed out to think of a witty retort to that, especially since Shiro is actually correct. He settles for mouthing along the side of Shiro’s neck as his own hands slip between their bodies.

“What are you— _oh_.”

It’s Keith’s turn to be smug, managing to get Shiro’s waistband low enough to free his dick which throbs with desire in his hands—his arousal palpable just from touching Keith. 

Shiro’s not much of a talker when his dick is involved, but it’s alright because Keith doesn’t need Shiro to use his words to tell him how he feels. It’s there in the way his mouth goes lax and his breathing changes, it's there in the little moans and whimpers he doesn’t try to hide, and it’s there in the way every inch of his body seeks out Keith’s.

Sooner than Keith expects, Shiro’s orgasm hits him. 

Keith strokes him twice more before letting Shiro’s dick fall from his hands, instead moving them up to cup Shiro’s face as he kisses him breathless. They stay like that for a long time—laughing while trading lazy kisses as the sea washes them clean. 

Peacekeeping work is the single most gratifying job Keith’s ever done, but the hours can be long, and it often means he and Shiro forgo any permanent home in favor of living weeks at a time on different Blade bases or alien planets. They’ve learned to live with very few possessions, an easy feat when the only thing Keith needs for any place he lays his head to feel like home is Shiro.

Keith’s always happy with Shiro, but he can’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed. It’s nice, so damn nice, and Keith finds himself loosening up in the water as Shiro guides him back into a floating position which Shiro imitates. They stay like that—hands entwined to keep them from floating apart—until Shiro’s stomach makes its hunger known.

It takes Keith at least ten dobosh to drag Shiro from the sea, even as his stomach growls again. Shiro’s like a kid in the water, but Keith knows him well enough to know if he doesn’t get some food in him soon, his playfulness will soon turn into something crankier and laced with melancholy. An over-hungry Shiro is an unhappy Shiro, and no matter how much his husband wants to spend his time splashing in the sea like a puppy, Keith knows he needs to eat.

Eventually Keith manages to drag him to the shore with the promise of a picnic and cuddles. Keith’s spread out the blanket before sitting down and Shiro wastes no time sprawling out with his toes in the sand and his head in Keith’s lap. 

Keith can take a hint, sliding his fingers over the curve of Shiro’s forehead and into his still-damp hair. Despite his obvious hunger, Shiro is still in no hurry to eat, apparently more interested in digging his feet under the warm sand and wiggling his head in Keith’s lap for head scratches. 

Never one to deny Shiro anything, Keith keeps playing with his hair as he digs around in the backpack with his free hand to pull out an assortment of bread-like pastries Shiro had enjoyed on their first morning with the Trukkex, and some orange fruit with a tangy inside that Keith’s forgotten the name of. Wordlessly Keith passes Shiro a pastry, watching with delight as bits of it flake off around his mouth as he eats. He looks blissful sprawled out in Keith’s lap, and there is so much happiness in Keith’s heart he hardly knows what to do with it. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Shiro asks in between bites, eyeing the uneaten fruit in Keith’s free hand.

“A little,” Keith answers before taking a bite, more to appease the little worry line forming between Shiro’s thick eyebrows than for his own hunger—it works. 

Shiro turns his gaze back to the sea, watching as the tide draws the sea further into the distance. Shiro watches the sea and Keith watches Shiro. With the light beginning to fade, everything around them takes on a new appearance as it’s suddenly cast in shades of orange and gold. Even Shiro looks different somehow, the light shimmering off his white hair in a way that almost makes it glow. He looks nothing short of angelic.

They work their way through the rest of the pastries and fruit until the bag is empty, their stomachs are full, and their time on this planet is nearing its end, leaving them with just enough time for one last bit of fun.

“Ready to get up?” Keith asks, patting Shiro’s arm. “I thought we could walk along the shore before it gets dark.”

Shiro shakes his head, groaning as he rolls off Keith and onto his side. “I’m too full to move.”

Keith laughs, reaching back to pat his back. “I can give you a ride.”

There’s unmistakable interest in Shiro’s eyes but he hesitates. “I’m a little big for a piggyback ride.”

“Baby, if I can hold you up against the wall and fuck you I’m pretty sure I can manage a piggyback ride on the beach,” Keith tells him as he stands. 

While Shiro stays fit because he thinks it’s fun, Keith stays fit for this—to carry and manhandle his husband who will never admit how much he likes it. Luckily for Keith he knows Shiro better than he knows himself and there’s nothing Shiro likes more than Keith casually displaying his strength and Keith, well—there’s nothing he likes more than showing off for Shiro.

“Come on, big boy,” Keith says, patting his back once more.

Shiro doesn’t hesitate this time so Keith squats down enough to make it easier for Shiro to climb on. It takes a few ticks for Shiro to get comfortable—left arm looped around Keith’s neck and legs around his waist. Once he’s sure Shiro isn’t going anywhere they make their way down the shoreline. The tides low enough now that the shoreline has grown, giving them a huge expanse of wet sand to walk on. 

[](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/657586978887434240/741846028864716821/voltron093a.jpg)

The low tide has also revealed something else Keith hadn’t noticed before.

“Shells,” Shiro says, spotting them too. “Look.”

Carefully Keith bends down to retrieve the one near his foot, turning it over to make sure there’s nothing living inside. Sure enough, the palm-sized shell is empty so he holds it for Shiro to see, unprepared for Shiro’s little inhale.

“Oh, it’s pretty,” Shiro whispers, lifting his fingers to drag them along the swirling purple shell. Keith turns it around, the iridescent sheen on the shell glimmering in the dying sunlight. Shiro’s right, it is pretty.

“We could take it home,” Keith says, pushing it into Shiro’s hand. “Put it on the bookshelf.”

“I’d like that,” Shiro answers, resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder as he wraps his fingers around the shell like it’s a piece of treasure.

By the time they’ve traversed their way down to the rocky edge of the shoreline, Keith’s pockets are full of more shells and colorful little bits of space-like sea glass. He’s not sure what exactly Shiro plans to do with it all, but he’s more than happy to oblige. Keith’s never been sentimental about things, but as they make their way back to their blanket he catches himself imagining all the sea baubles in a jar on their bookshelf, and the idea of having a physical reminder of their time here today fills him with an unexpected sense of comfort. 

Back at the blanket, Shiro lets his legs slip from around Keith’s waist as his feet fall to the sand. Keith misses the weight at his back already, pretty sure he’s gonna finagle his way into being the little spoon when they get back to the outpost. 

“I’m not ready to leave,” Shiro says as he watches Keith carefully stow away the shells and sea glass in the front pocket of the backpack.

Keith turns his eyes on the horizon, watching as the last rays of the days light slip beneath the line of the sea. They’ve got maybe a varga at most before their ship is due back at the Blade outpost. Keith only needs about half that time to fly from here to there, which means they’ve got at least twenty dobosh before they _have_ to leave.

“We’ve got a little time,” Keith says, zipping up the front pocket and patting the blanket. “Wanna look at some stars?”

“I’m looking at my favorite star right now,” Shiro says with the kind of sincerity only Shiro could manage.

Keith ducks his head. “ _Shiro._ ”

“I only speak the truth,” Shiro says, which makes Keith’s face heat further. That’s exactly the point. He knows Shiro means it, and the ease with which he says it never fails to leave Keith breathless.

When Keith looks up, it’s to see Shiro spread out on the blanket, his left arm tucked beneath his head. He grins at Keith who shuffles sideways, careful not to drag too much sand onto the blanket as he lays out beside Shiro.

Soon they’ll need to pack up the rest of their stuff and depart, but for now they’re here and Keith wants to enjoy every second.

Above them, the daylight has given way to night, the sky no longer awash in golden hues and not dusted in darkness. Keith exhales slowly as he tracks the lines of stars in the sky, trying to memorize the unfamiliar constellations.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, turning his head towards Shiro to find Shiro watching him instead of the stars.

“So beautiful,” Shiro agrees, removing his hand from behind his head to reach out and twist a stray lock of Keith’s hair around his finger. 

He’s ridiculous and Keith loves him so much he aches with it. He thought the feeling in his chest that fluttered every time Shiro smiles at him would dwindle. It hasn’t. It’s simply shifted from something born out of the fear of losing Shiro into something calmer, but no less overwhelming at times—a sense of safety and gratitude in the knowledge that Shiro is his. 

Now and forever, they belong to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about Sheith with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813)


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